


Fall of a Hero. Death of a Friend

by Impishgrin



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Gen, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-03
Updated: 2015-03-03
Packaged: 2018-03-16 04:24:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3474314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Impishgrin/pseuds/Impishgrin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Despite a publically antagonistic relationship, Tony Stark and Phil Coulson were friends. What went through the engineer's mind as he was suddenly forced to deal with the loss of the man who thought him worthy of being part of a team of heroes.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fall of a Hero. Death of a Friend

**Author's Note:**

> I'm not labelling this as "Major Character Death" because Phil is already dead and this is set in the aftermath. If you think I should do differently, please let me know.
> 
> The Avengers belong to Marvel and I am not making any money from the publication of this work

 

_A friend who dies, it's something of you who dies_

– Gustave Flaubert

 

Tony was a mess, his mind replaying the battle for the Helicarrier over and over, looking for what he could have done differently, which decision he should have made faster and which one he was going to regret for the rest of his life.

Actually, no. That last one was the one thought that was clear – he was never going to forgive himself for failing to protect Phil.

He sat at the conference table on the Bridge, his body numb with exhaustion and shock, staring blankly into the middle distance as Fury spouted something about losing his one good eye and admitted that SHIELD and the World Security Council had been planning on building weapons with tesseract technology. He flinched slightly when Fury mentioned the Avengers, not because just about everyone who knew about the Avengers was very keen to rule him out of the group should he bring anything but the Iron Man suit to the table, but because that was _Phil’s_ dream. One that he had nurtured since he was old enough to follow a comic book strip. And here was Fury spouting off about how he’d died still dreaming of heroes, trying to provoke a reaction from Tony and Captain America.

Tony was all too happy to provide him with one – he stormed off the Bridge, heading for the first empty room he came across. It didn’t matter how much Phil had pushed for Tony’s inclusion in the Avengers – _Tony’s_ inclusion, not Iron Man’s. He wasn’t cut out to be a hero if he failed to protect the ones closest to him.

Stalking through the Helicarrier, apparently oblivious to the Agents and Officers around him, Tony was forced to a sudden stop when a young, sandy-haired, tear and blood streaked Officer planted himself directly in his path.

“Tony,” he said, his voice pleading for something Tony wasn’t sure how to give. Following his gut, Tony reached out to pull the Officer into a strong embrace, feeling it immediately returned.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “Kit, I’m so sorry.”

Kit couldn’t speak, he just twisted his hands into the soft-washed cotton of Tony’s t-shirt and doing his best to keep his sobs quiet. Tony shifted so that he was able to lean against a bulkhead, therefore keeping the pair on their feet, and simply held the young man. He had no idea how long they stood there, the engineer fighting back his own tears, but he was suddenly very aware that one too many people had glared in their direction.

“Kit, we need to move,” Tony said, quietly. Kit took a shaky inhale and withdrew, his arms sliding from embracing Tony to wrapping around his own torso in an almost desperate attempt keep his pain contained.

“I need to see him,” said Kit. Tony shook his head.

“You don’t want that,” he said. “What Loki did…… he’s a mess, Kit. You don’t want to see him.”

“I need to see him,” repeated Kit, his voice becoming choked. “I can’t tell Thom…… I need to see his body before I can do that. I need to know this is real.”

“OK,” said Tony, watching as yet one more person glared at them, or more specifically Kit. “But I’m sticking with you until I can get you to Clint.”

“You don’t have to,” said Kit, seemingly oblivious to the fact he was better known as Clint Barton’s little brother and protégé rather than Phil Coulson’s son-in-law. That put him in danger among a crew that was now mourning several of its mates and had narrowly avoided having their ship destroyed by the combined efforts of Clint, the Hulk and Thor.

“I want to,” said Tony, pressing a hand to the small of Kit’s back and guiding the young man in the direction of the morgue, his expression daring anyone to approach them with anything more than condolences.

* * *

It was another hour before anyone expect Natasha was allowed into speak with Clint and even then it was under protest from the medical and psych personnel. However, Natasha had growled at the idiot who had tried to stop Kit entering the room and Clint had actively reached out for the young Officer when he caught sight of him. The archer took in the youth’s haggard state, brushing away a couple of straying tears as he looked between Natasha and Tony, looking for an explanation.

“We lost Phil,” said Tony, watching as Kit sagged further in Clint’s embrace before starting to murmur apologies in Irish into his shoulder.

“Stark!” snapped Natasha, rounding on the engineer but Tony had long since become immune to her glares and hostile behaviour.

“They have a right to know,” he snapped back. “I don’t keep that kind of secret.”

“Body?” asked Clint, needing to rest his weight against the bulkhead in order to stay upright.

“Medical,” said Tony. “Kit’s seen him.”

“Get me a feed,” said Clint, aware that he wasn’t about to be let free to see his handler’s body. He was going to be lucky to be let free again if what Natasha and the medical personnel were saying was true.

“Done,” said Tony with a sharp nod before turning on his heel and marching back up to one of the higher decks, still very much in need of an empty room where he could scream and throw things without the risk of harming anyone else.

He eventually found the only empty room was the Helicarrier was the Cage room where Loki had been held. Phil’s parting shot at Loki meant that there was a lot of loose metal laying around for Tony to hurl at the opposite wall because otherwise he would have _made_ the projectiles. He was admiring the collection of dents and scratches he’d managed to make when his solitude was interrupted by just about the last person he wanted to speak to at that particular moment.

“Was he married?” asked Steve, coming to a stop roughly ten-feet behind him.

“No,” said Tony, swallowing hard even as he was thankful that he wouldn’t have to deliver _that_ particular message – let Fury or Hill deal with the ex-wife that had decided that Phil _leaving_ the Rangers was suitable grounds for divorce.

God, this was going to destroy Thom.

“There was a cellist,” he continued, already hearing the mournful cry of the instrument, the melody part of a longer the piece that Thom had proudly demonstrated the last time he was in LA. With a yell, Tony hurled the piece of debris in his hand towards its companions, landing with a small ringing thud before skittering to the floor. Steve stepped forward in concern.

“He was an idiot!” exclaimed Tony.

“He was doing his job!” retorted Steve, that instinctual nature among soldiers springing forward to defend their fallen comrade.

“For taking Loki alone,” clarified Tony. He was well aware that Phil wasn’t an idiot in the usual definition of the word. He also knew the man had to be pretty close to being a saint to successfully put up with Tony _and_ Clint on a regular basis. But even Agent Philip J Coulson had his limits and vengeful Norse Gods were apparently his.

“He was out of his league,” said Tony, turning to leave the bay.

“Is this the first time you've lost a soldier?” Steve asked and something in Tony snapped.

“ _We are not soldiers_!” he snarled, rounding on the Captain. And they weren’t. Thom had dedicated his life to saving the next generation, Natasha was a spy and Phil spent a substantial amount of time organising missions and mobilising people while he spent the rest of it cleaning up after other people’s mistakes. Not even Clint or Kit – both of whom were SHIELD marksmen and Agents – could be legitimately named soldiers.

“I am not marching to Fury's fife!”

With that, Tony stormed off, still needing space to vent and right now Captain America – the perfect soldier that Phil, his father, the entire _world_ had idolised – was looking like too good a target for him to safely be around.

* * *

Battle, Tony later decided, was a far more cathartic way of venting his anger and grief than storming through the Helicarrier and adding his own touch to the ship’s already grievous wounds. Blasting Loki across his penthouse was particularly satisfying. He was glad Steve had seen something resembling common sense when Clint appeared on the battlefield, kitted out to the nines with the latest arrows and bow that had been a work in progress until roughly six weeks ago. He was only too glad to drop the archer on top of the tallest building of their kill-zone and watch him work. One thing did bother him though – with Tony, Natasha and Clint all in the field, who was watching Kit’s back?

“I left him barking out orders to the remaining security guys,” said Clint, his smile proud no matter how slight it was.

“You think we’re gonna get backup?” asked Tony, launching into the air to take out the approaching trio of Chitauri hover-boards before turning his attention to the Leviathan.

“No,” said Clint, shooting out a fourth hover-board before glancing down at the street. “Not unless it’s civilian. Doesn’t matter – it gives Kit something to do and takes away Fury’s excuse that he wasn’t ready. We keeping score?”

“You really do like that Legolas moniker, don’t you?” chuckled Tony. “In which case I’m on thirty-four and that Leviathan has got to count for another ten at least.”

“Technically Hulk took out the Leviathan,” said Clint to which Tony blew a raspberry. “And I meant for the number of tally marks that go on Boss’ memorial.”

“We’ll get him Loki’s crown,” promised Tony before shooting off down towards 39th, which was seeing a lot of Chitauri starting to wander out of bounds.

Things very quickly went to Hell after that, Thor failing to talk Loki down and the portal expanding to let through yet more Chitauri and Leviathan. The icing on the cake, however, was Fury informing him that a nuke was incoming with a payload capable of wiping out Lower Manhattan and turning the entire city radioactive for at _least_ the next century.

Just when they’d found a way to actually _win_ their fight.

He didn’t respond to Steve’s comment of his trip being one way with anything more than a glib remark to JARVIS to save power for the return journey.

“Tony no!” Clint all but begged in his ear as he concentrated on turning his trajectory skywards, the archer having switched to the different channel on their radios, cutting the Avengers out of their more private communiqué.

“There’s no other choice,” said Tony, colliding with the top of his own Tower in order to get the final push vertical that he needed.

“You don’t have to go through!” protested Clint.

“Yes,” said Tony, blinking tears out his eyes. “I do. Just make sure you mark an extra seventy-eight on that memorial.”

“Seventy-eight,” echoed Clint before the comm. signal went dead and Clint’s image wavered beside Pepper’s on his view screen.

He choked as the screen went black and JARVIS’ voice died in his ear. He remained determinedly upright in order to watch the nuke hit the Chitauri ship. The glow of multiple explosions danced across the blank view screen as he gave up fighting the lack of gravity and allowed himself to freefall backwards towards the portal, Phil Coulson’s voice ringing in his head.

_A hero rarely lives to see his glory shine,_ the Agent had once told him in an effort to curb his showmanship behaviour when it came to the Iron Man. _Or_ _hear his story told_.

And, actually, Tony was OK with that.


End file.
